an enemy bigger than my apathy
by kkann
Summary: Reality sets in for Ellis, and Nick is left to slowly piece him back together. The zombie apocalypse is only fun until you have sit alone in the dark in the middle of the night and realize what you've become and that there might not be a tomorrow.
1. insomniacs with cigarettes

**A/N: **I stand beside the firm belief that a zombie apocalypse would completely screw somehow up psychologically, and Ellis just so happened to get to be my victim as I explore that idea.  
>While browsing through the Left 4 Dead 2 Wiki in search of the plethora of Keith stories I noticed that a great deal of Ellis' description depicts him as practically oblivious to the horrors around him. While I can agree with that to some extent, I feel like there's a lot more to him that being a goof-ball that's fond of Kiddie Land and blastin' the crap out of zombies. So yeah, I guess Ellis kinda cracked here.<br>Initially this was meant to be a one-shot, but _man_ did it get _long._ This 'story' only spans a few hours if not a few cigarettes and is pretty much just one long conversation, in a way. It gets a bit darker as it goes on, seeing as it touches upon what it means (to Ellis) killing zombies and fearing death and fear and some other things that aren't exactly glossed over, but aren't exactly elaborated on in the game either.

Rated T for cigarettes, potty mouth, and...yeah. XD  
>and uhh...I don't know how to smoke. I guessed certain actions and protocols when writing this. haha<br>Review if you feel like it-let me know if there's anything I could improve on!

Part **[1/4]**

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><p><em><em>He likes to shoot his gun, but he knows not what it means…<em>_

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><p><span>insomniacs with cigarettes.<span>

As usual, Nick's the first one to wake up.

As usual, reality still sucked and his neck was cramped from the way he'd spent the night slumped against a wall instead of a real bed.

As usual, his frown deepened as he pushed off of the moldy plaster and stretched his joints, hearing the pleasing crack that told him he was still alive and human. Coach grunted softly from the recliner they'd stationed him in the night before with his wounded leg propped up as Nick stood, shaking out his own when he realized that it had fallen asleep.

He squinted in the darkness in Rochelle's general direction and tried not to look to appreciative of the way she was soundly asleep and curled against the arm of the couch she and Ellis had taken up residence on.

A second glance earned the narrowing of eyes again when he took in the mechanic's absence.

Multiple scenarios ran through Nick's head—not many of them pleasant—as to the whereabouts of the hyperactive young man that hardly ever shut up. (Not that the conman was supposed to really care, but Nick still did.)

He grabbed the bloodstained crowbar that had become his best friend the previous day and prepared himself for a little reconnaissance. He swore to whatever higher power there was that he was going to wring the kid's neck when he found him if he'd managed to get outside under his watch.

With that came a very short, very brief, and very painful pang of guilt that came with the notion that he'd fallen asleep when he was supposed to be keeping an eye on their surroundings.

The shifting of a humanoid shadow in the corner of his eye caught his attention, and he gripped his weapon that much tighter as he slowly went to step around the wall and bash in the brains of whomever or whatever had been able to make its way into the Safe Room.

He peered around the edge slowly, raising his arms and ready to take a swing before he found himself warily staring at Ellis' profile illuminated by the moonlight streaming in through the bars of the door's window.

The younger man's eyes flickered around the landscape on the other side of the door in search of any foreign signs of movement, calloused fingers curling and uncurling around his ever-present shotgun. His stance shifted slightly and Nick took a step back into the shadows encasing him, watching the surprisingly silent man roll back and forth on the balls of his feet gently as a vein in his neck twitched.

It didn't take Nick's sharp eyes to notice the dark circles under Ellis' own.

His brow furrowed at the notion that they looked a great deal deeper than they had the day before—shit, did this kid sleep at _all?_

They stood in silence for a while longer, one seemingly oblivious to the other and gently rattling like a ball of nerves about to implode on itself. Nick wanted to make a move but wasn't sure how to go about it.

"Didn' yer momma ever tell ya that it's rude ta stare?" Nick could tell Ellis was tired from the way he drawled his words more than usual and the grin that typically graced his features was faltering.

Nick in turn glared at him in his characteristic manner, shooting another glance at the shotgun Ellis was flexing his fingers around and briefly recalled the look of utter despair on his face when he'd lost his preferred sniper in one of the day's many scuffles.

"The hell are you doing up?" He asked gruffly, loosening his grip on his own weapon and lowering his arm back to his side. Ellis shrugged offhandedly, his gaze flickering to the conman and then back to the moonlit, decaying world.

"Couldn't sleep." The Southerner muttered, not verbally pointing out the fact that he'd clearly taken over Nick's watch when drowsiness had crept up on the older man. Said man gave a light sneer and couldn't refuse a jest.

"What'd you do, have a nightmare?" Ellis' back noticeably tightened, but he waited for Nick to finish. "Because I am _not_ sitting with you until you fall asleep."

"Go back to sleep, Nick." The mechanic ground out, for that moment not having enough fire to retort with some scathing remark of his own.

The corner of his lip twitched, but instead he chose to go against the kid's wishes and take a few steps closer into the puddle of moonlight enveloping Ellis to stare down the young mechanic for a moment. His forced tone of voice and stature clearly stated that he wanted to be left alone, but Nick was no fool—it was all too obvious that the indifferent persona was a ruse and the last thing Ellis wanted to be was on his own with only his mind and fear to keep him company.

Nick leaned against the wall and out of the corner of his eye the Southerner watched him slide down it until he was seated on the floor with his long legs stretched out before him. The younger man heaved a sigh and turned just enough to keep the conman in his line of vision while he stared out into the morose landscape.

The silence between them was deafening, but Nick was a bit too preoccupied with digging around in his jacket pocket to really care. He glanced up again at the highlighted dark circles under Ellis' typically cheerful eyes only to find their light dimmed and too hardened for his twenty-three years.

"You look like shit." The words were out of Nick's mouth before he had a chance to think about them, but then again he never gave much thought to any of the insults that spewed from him at the early hours of the morning.

The agitated bobbing of Ellis' foot suddenly captured his attention, and it was seriously beginning to get on his nerves.

"Were you born an ass, or did ya have ta work at it?" Nick found himself being stared down and glared mockingly in the blue irises studying him slowly. He'd never been one to overly appreciate people looking at him for extended periods of time—for any reason.

He let out a humorless chuckle and successfully extracted a battered pack of cigarettes from his jacket.

"It's a gift." Green eyes flickered to the foot still uneasily shifting while a small white object was yanked out of its flimsy packaging. "Sit down, you're making me nervous."

Nick stuck it in between his teeth and then set to searching his other pocket for a lighter while he waited for his words to sink in. Ellis remained rooted to the spot for a bit and for a few moments it was quiet, save for the rustling of fabric as the lighter proved itself scarce. Nick was cursing to himself under his breath when Ellis finally loosened his shoulders and took up residence on the floor next to the older man.

The shotgun resting on top of his raised knees earned a _look_ from Nick, who reached up to shove its mouth away from his own knee that he'd bent to prop his arm up on when his search for a lighter had proven fruitless.

"Blast my knee off, and you'll have your head on backwards."

Ellis let out a brief chuckle at the action and comment, but said nothing about it. He dug into his own pocket of his coveralls and held his fist out to Nick who in turn reached out a sneer that came across as more of a smirk.

"You smoke?" He asked around his cigarette, cupping his hand around the end as he tried and failed to light it a few times. Once it was lit he extracted another one and held it up to the twenty-three year-old between two long fingers, met with a negative shake of the head that turned into half of a nod. "Do you, or what?"

Ellis held the offered cigarette in one hand and his returned lighter in the other, looking down incredulously at both and then warred with himself as to his next course of action.

"Man, I haven't smoked since I was sixteen, and that was on a dare." With that, however, he shoved the small roll in between his dry lips and went to work bringing a flame to life.

Nick pulled his own away from his mouth to let out a small puff and ran his other hand through his hair. "Too afraid of what Ma would think?"

"Naw," The hick muttered, giving the lighter a shake before he tried again. "Gramp died o' lung cancer and we was all too afraid it'd happen ta us too."

"And you work in a garage." Nick mused, rubbing his chin and finding himself perturbed by the ease with which Ellis readily revealed so much about himself and his past. He rolled his shoulder back and leaned further against the wall as Ellis finally got his cigarette lit.

"Different fumes," He murmured, grabbing the shotgun and setting it aside in order to rest his arm across his knees. Out of the corner of his eye Nick saw his bicep flex with the action, making the unexplained tattoo all the more prevalent.

Nick had nothing else to say on the matter and figured they'd leave it at that, finish their smokes and wait until exhaustion finally took over Ellis. It took a minute for the conman to realize that the kid next to him had yet to actually do anything with his.

"If I knew you were going to waste it, I would've burned you with it." He scorned, bothered enough by the fact that he'd willingly pawned of a cigarette, but more so that it brought his already low count down to five.

Ellis held it precariously between the pads of his thumb and index finger, studying it carefully and then shooting a glance at Nick before deciding to 'man up' and shove it between his teeth.

He promptly let out a loud hack, coughing out smoke as tears stung at his eyes. Nick watched bemusedly and waited for the coughing fit to end.

"Don't breathe it in, dipshit."

Ellis glared at him and then cleared his throat a few times, blinking through the moisture that had formed under his eyelids.

"I don't make it a point to smoke, asshole."

Strange really, how their 'bonding' came through cigarettes and insults.

"Yeah well, cough a little louder, why don't you. Go ahead and sound like a Smoker. That'll go over well."

"Aw, go to hell." Ellis snapped, weariness obviously eating at him along with something else Nick couldn't quite name. To cover the way it irked him, Nick rolled his eyes and turned back to the cigarette he'd been letting burn in the air thick with silence, taking a puff and then letting it seep through his teeth.

Ellis would have said he looked similar to the devil right then with the way the smoke slithered out of his mouth, his dark eyes and slicked back hair accentuating that notion. The skin around his lips betrayed the laugh lines he'd acquired over the years he never spoke about and only made him appear all the more menacing in the sliver of light cutting across his face.

Unconsciously, the mechanic shivered and looked away, his mouth tugging down into the scowl he'd been meaning to hide and didn't want to burden Nick with. He would have tried to lighten the mood with another joke or crack at Nick's attire and Nick himself—heck, he even would have tried another Keith story—if it weren't for the fact that his heart truly wasn't into it.

Funny, Nick never thought that getting Ellis to shut up would actually bother him. If anything, the lack of insistent chatter and all of the unfinished stories about Keith or Dave or whatever the hell they called him was seriously getting to him.

He could already see himself going bat-shit crazy with the inactivity and sleep looked like something he'd never find right then. To fill that void, he shoved his cigarette back into his mouth and locked his fingers together to crack his knuckles.

"All right, what's your problem?" To say Nick wasn't good with this stuff was an understatement. Hell, he'd been pegged by his ex-wife as one of those guys who didn't talk or share enough. In his opinion, Ellis had talked and shared enough about himself in the past few weeks to make up for the years he'd spent with his wife glaring at him and criticizing his every move.

The reply he received was the quirk of a 'brow and the sudden flare of the illuminated end of a cigarette.

"What?"

Nick rolled his eyes at the otherwise incredulous look on the kid's face and flicked a glob of lint off his knee.

"You're not your usual god damn chipper, constantly running your mouth self." He sniffed and turned to face Ellis. "And to be honest, it's getting on my nerves."

The mechanic's brow puckered for a moment as he frowned. "Wait, so when I'm tellin' stories y'all get annoyed, but when I'm not, ya get annoyed still? Seriously?"

He frowned, grumbling something about _'can't win with you guys'_ and Nick sniggered softly to himself. Coach snorted somewhere in his sleep, and Nick peered around the corner carefully just to check up on the two he'd left in dreamland in order to sit on the cold floor with a depressed hick. Apparently Nick had priorities, as unknown and screwed-up as they were. He took another draw from his cigarette and briefly debated blowing it in Ellis' face.

"You haven't been sleeping." Nick stated bluntly, absently brushing dirt off of his sleeve and unable to see the war that went on in Ellis' suddenly aged eyes. "It's pretty obvious too, Overalls."

He waited for the boy to respond, for once telling himself not to make too sharp a barb. He was too damn curious as to why the man's mood was fluctuating to let him to suddenly get all uppity and close himself off from the other three.

Ellis let out a slow sigh which Nick initially mistook as a drag from the cigarette he hadn't exactly bummed off the swindler.

"If I don't sleep, I don't have to see it."

The confession caught the older man off guard, not prepared to discuss something of that caliber. In all honesty he'd just expected Ellis to admit that he was too damn hyperactive for his own good and just too busy running through the days' events or planning out his next zombie killing maneuver over the course of the night to sleep.

Of course, it was then Nick's turn to be baffled.

"What?" He let his cigarette dangle from the fingertips resting on his knee.

He stared at Ellis and not for the first time tried to figure him out.


	2. your reality is worse than my nightmares

**A/N:** I didn't really expect the response I received for the last bit, so thank you guys so much for that! XD  
>Again, this thing gets pretty dark and at some moments seems to try to humanize the zombies, but I'm also trying to humanize the characters and story as well. Any comments, feel free! I'd be happy to know what you think in regards to any part of this.<br>Again, not Nick/Ellis pairing. Just Nick and Ellis being bros and zombie-fightin' champs.  
>Part 2 of a long-ass one-shot! woo.<br>Trying to show that Ellis isn't just a carefree goofball the entire time.  
>We'll see how this works. As always, review if you feel like it! Any thoughts are appreciated and taken into consideration. c:<p>

Part **[2/4]**

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><p><em>Fear is only in our minds and it's taking over all the time…<em>

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><p><span>your reality is worse than my nightmares.<span>

Ellis took his sweet time in responding.

"At first I thought it was kinda funny, y'know? I mean shit, zombies. It's like outta some god damn movie." His eyes wandered around the wall opposite them as he spoke, sneering at the words _CEDA __SUCKS_ haphazardly scrawled. "And then sometimes when I try to get some rest I just…_see_ it."

Nick sat and tried not to stare at Ellis, instead turning his attention to the idle cigarette between his fingers. In all honestly, he'd assumed the mechanic would fail to respond and the conversation would halt at that.

The older man bit as his lip as nausea churned in his rather empty stomach.

Ellis' smoke was trembling.

"It's like some friggin' nightmare, but then I realize that it's _real_ and…shit."

He took a breath and ran the hand that wasn't holding his lackluster cigarette down his face.

"Every time we're trying to get some sleep I close my eyes and I can just _see_ 'em. I see them sons-a-bitches and they're screamin' and runnin' at us and we kill 'em and we say we're fightin' zombies but I _know_, man, I _know._" His fingers slid under his cap to cup the side of his head, musing the hair plastered to it through dirt, sweat, and fear.

"We ain't just killing a bunch-a sons-a-bitches. These sons-a-bitches are _people_. We're killin' _people_ and _laughin__'_ about it."

Nick decided that he didn't like this darker side to Ellis. Being all bummed and moanin' 'n' groanin' about all kinds of stupid shit he could handle, but something of this level was something he'd never hoped to see from him. (Not that he'd always thought he was stupid, he simply didn't want to have a discussion this deep this late at night with the kid that was supposed to be their comic relief in this hell.)

It was clear that this whole apocalypse/end-of-the-friggin'-_world_ was finally getting to Ellis and it had dawned on him that there was really nothing to joke about when it came to the death and fear that followed and mocked them every day of the lives they had been struggling to find some resemblance of sanity in.

"_Were._" Nick muttered.

"What?" Ellis' voice didn't crack, but it wasn't necessarily strong, either.

"_Were_, not _are._" Nick said, turning to stare down the kid that had just set his heart out on a platter for the world. "Those _things_ out there aren't people anymore, Ellis. Whatever made them human is gone."

The bewildered look that turned into _shock_ and _hurt_ and then finally settled upon _revulsion_ was nearly enough to have Nick shut up and end the conversation right then. His initial plan had been to coax a joke out of Ellis to prove that all was still right in their screwed-up little world, not to have this deep moral debate over the humanity of the undead.

Ellis' voice was quiet, but firm in its belief that they could save someone who couldn't be saved.

"You don't know that." There was something pleading in the young mechanic's voice as he spoke, as if he truly _believed_ that there was still some good in these damned zombies that had made it their goal to kill him as soon as the Safe Room door opened.

"So what are you proposing we do then, Ellis? Go and save them all?" Nick tried to keep the bitterness out of his voice, but evidently some of it seeped through, judging from the way Ellis pulled back a bit, leaving his plan to get the young man to open up stumbling over itself. That didn't stop him from pressing the matter, however. "There are some things you can't fix, Ellis. The sooner you figure that out, the better."

Nick had never truly been glared at by Ellis before, or at least, not in the way that the younger man's eyes were nearly setting him ablaze at the moment. It had taken another moment another realization struck him.

Ellis had spent years around tools and had presumably grown up with the ability to fix things, a mechanic by trade and used to pull things into oblivion only to piece them back together.

As it stood now, everything Ellis had ever known and understood had been torn away from him and he was left fumbling with the life he could never have again.

Ellis was used to fixing things, and there was nothing left to fix.

Unable to think of the correct thing—or anything else, for that matter—to say at the moment, Nick put his cigarette back in his mouth and stared down the graffiti dominating the wall staring blindly back at them. As he puffed out smoke before his own eyes he noticed the kid shaking next to him, but was unsure of whether it was out of anger or fear at their last words.

The Southerner didn't say anything for a long while, and the conman offered him very little to work with.

There was a short _screech_ and both men jumped, the taller nearly dropping his lit cigarette into his lap when a lone hand shoved its way between the metal bars, groping wildly through part of the only thing separating them from death, agony, and uncertainty.

Seemingly unbothered, the younger swiftly stood, clenching his cigarette tightly between his teeth as he stood with his shotgun but not without giving a sneer before he slammed the butt of it into the zombie's face with much more force than was presumably necessary.

The keening noise stopped abruptly as it crumpled.

Nick would have laughed at the sight of the hick with a gun and his 'smoke' had it not been for the shadow that passed over his features when he turned around. He suppressed a shiver as he seated himself on the floor again, his typical demeanor absent for the time being.

"Ya still don' get it, do you?" He whispered, briefly hoping in the back of his mind that he hadn't actually killed them.

"I get it just fine, kid." The other muttered around his cigarette just before he pulled it out of his mouth to deposit some of its ash onto the floor beside him.

Ellis watched indifferently as thin tendrils of smoke billowed up toward the ceiling.

"No," He murmured, his knees tucking up toward him again. "No, I don't think you do."

Nick was getting tired of this attempted philosophical bullshit that was driving them in circles.

"God _damn_ it, Ellis!" He took a breath to drop his voice down a bit, not wanting to wake the other two and have Rochelle tear into him for verbally screwing with the boy's head, even if it wasn't his fault.

He glowered and threw his cigarette down between his feet, lifting one to stomp it out without realizing that it was still perfectly fine, save for the half of it that had turned to ash.

"You think I don't _get_ it? You think that I don't _understand_ what's going on? That the world's going to Hell in a hand basket and we're all pretty much screwed?" Nick was glaring at Ellis for all he was worth and not giving a damn about it.

"Just how friggin' ignorant do you think I am?"

Ellis' cigarette was trembling in his hand.

"This is the God damn apocalypse, and to top it off there are _friggin__' __zombies_ and you're acting like I don't give a shit." His voice had leveled out somewhat and he wasn't on the brink of hysterics anymore, but that didn't keep the biting edge out of his tone.

"I will admit that once-upon-a-time these were people, Ellis," He said, his hand clenched into a white knuckled fist. "But _people_ don't try to kill you every time you step outside and regular _people_ wouldn't find themselves bombed by the military at every turn."

He shook his head, stray strands of black hair falling into his antagonized face. "Back before this shit began there were some screwed up people out there, yeah, but nothing like this."

"There was nothing like this."

Nick tore his gaze away from Ellis and shoved his hand back into his pocket, fingering around the lint and dirt that had collected there for the cigarettes he hadn't wanted to give up on just yet. He silently mourned for the one smashed against the bottom of his shoe.

"You're a damn hypocrite, by the way."

"_What?_" The one-word inquiry seemed to be Ellis' favorite word that night, judging from the way it seemed to be the only he'd say when he wasn't trying to find humanity in something that was dead and murderous.

"I said you're a hypocrite," Nick muttered through his lips and around his cigarette, having snatched at the lighter Ellis was numbly offering him without truly thinking about it. "You just told me that you thought killing zombies was killing people, and not even five minutes ago you just incapacitated another one."

He snickered to himself in a snide and chauvinistic manner, cupping his hand around the tiny flame erupting from the lighter. "So what does that bring today's head count to?"

"That ain't funny, man." Ellis hissed at Nick's dark chuckle.

Nick hummed as he flicked the lighter shut. "Wasn't trying to be funny, Overalls."

Ellis grabbed his lighter back wordlessly and shoved it back into his pocket, his own cigarette held limply between his fingers as he tried to think of something quick and scathing that would really smart.

"You'd have one warped-ass sense uh humor if you was tryin' then." Ellis muttered halfheartedly, attempting to find some lighter side to the situation because that was just what he did. One of Nick's shoulders twitched in a shrug and both tried to find some way to avoid the silence that kept trying to suffocate them both.

Something else shifted outside and Ellis gave an uneasy shudder. One hand hesitantly jerked toward the gun while the other balled up the material of his coveralls in his fist. He nearly bit his half-forgotten cigarette in half in his anxiety, and Nick was about to reach over and place a hand on his shoulder before he thought better of it.

The younger man unconsciously slid back into the shadows and Nick could only watch as he shoved his forehead against his knees and shake. He had no idea how to deal with this sort of situation and could only sit back and observe as Ellis practically caved in on himself.

He had half a mind to go and wake Rochelle for her comforting presence or Coach for his prayers and words of wisdom.

"Hey," He began, finally reaching out and gently folding his hand around Ellis' quivering shoulder. "Hey, Ellis."

The boy let out a long, shaking sigh, another rippling shudder passing down his spine before he slowly sat up.

His gaze focused on the puddles of moonlight streaming in through the window and then on the shadows formed by the bars lining it. His body language softened by a few degrees, as if finding relief in the comforting hand cupping his shoulder.

"I ain't ever been 'fraid of the dark before." He whispered, staring numbly into the bleak expanse that had once held stars. "I ain't ever been 'fraid…"

Nick swallowed, the taste in his mouth suddenly bitter, and he had to catch himself before he flung this cigarette to the ground as well.

"Me neither." He muttered, following Ellis' gaze and realizing that the only time before this that he had ever been truly afraid of shadows and darkness was when as a child he'd been convinced by his cousin that there were creatures under his bed looking to snatch children away and his mother had conceded by buying him that damn nightlight he'd eventually shoved into a box because there was nothing mature about it.

No illuminated astronauts and rocket ships were going to make this night any better than the last.

Ellis had the heels of his palms firmly pressed into his eyes then, doing everything he could to avert eye contact and reinforce the notion that he needed to pull himself together and do everything he could to avoid fully falling apart right then.

He leaned forward slightly and Nick's grip on him tightened, anchoring him down to reality but at the same time reminding him that he wasn't alone.

Ellis was murmuring quietly to himself when the other man made some comment somewhere along the lines of _what?_ and _speak up._

"I don't wanna die here, man." He repeated, feeling shame burn across the back of his neck as he was unconsciously forced by his own mind to admit his worst fears. "I can't die here. Not like this."

"No one's letting you die here."

For a moment, he actually found little reassurance in Nick's brutal honesty.

Ellis had returned from withdrawing into himself and braced his back against the wall again, his cigarette having fallen to the floor next to his shotgun when he'd shoved his face into his head. Inwardly, he debated asking Nick for another but then thought better of it until the latter offered him another between his thumb and a ringed finger.

He held it idly and stared at it briefly before his gaze wandered back to the window and left Nick clutching at straws as to what to say next.

His hand remained where it was on the younger man's shoulder, despite how much he wanted to take it back. Maybe Ellis found it comforting, in a way.

Ellis was letting out another breath and Nick heaved a sigh, realizing that this emotional traumatic night was nowhere near over.

And yet, he welcomed it.


	3. the night the lights went out in georgia

**A/N:** I don't even know why subconscious focuses on beating up Ellis so. The poor man-boy. ;-;  
>Read, review, go cr0wn a Witch.<br>That sort of thing.

If you want to lighten the mood, I highly recommend listening to _'My Buddy, Keith'_ over on YouTube. It's an amazing song. for srs.  
>The 'me and Keith tried being homeless' story is one of the "Community" stories for unofficial campaigns. The first sentence was slightly altered, but it can be found on the Left 4 Dead Wiki under EllisQuotes-Stories.  
>Speaking of which, I want to include another story in the next bit (which may also be the last bit.). Which story would you like to see?<p>

**ChlorophormCottonball**! I feel bad because I can't respond to your reviews, but I just want to let you know I love them. I love them much. Very much.  
>and derp right back at you. :D<p>

Getting a little more inner-working of Ellis and/or Nick here. Have a little something like 'back story' somewhere in it and getting a little lighter. Ellis isn't still a-hundred percent, though.

Part **[3/4]**

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><p><em>What happens to a soul when it's strapped inside his emotions and all of these words he's spoken—they bind him to the life he's left behind?<br>_You can see that this broken soul is bleeding...__

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><p><span>the night the lights went out in georgia.<span>

Rochelle sighed contently in her sleep for the first time in days, curling further around the armrest she was propping herself up on and blissfully oblivious to the turmoil her so-called 'younger brother' was suffering through with a man that had once wanted very little to do with him.

Coach shifted his foot just slightly and a twitch of pain danced across his face at the movement.

Nick had curled his hand into Ellis' shoulder, waiting for some form of response from the young Southerner. He dug uncut, jabbed fingernails into the soiled material of the Bull Shifters shirt to probe a reaction out of him, whether it was from pain or sudden realization of physical contact.

Ellis blinked slowly at the writings on the wall and tried to gather his wits about him.

"Who the hell is Chicago Ted?"

The older man hadn't realized the younger had spoken until he found himself fixed with a gaze awaiting an answer.

"You act like I'm supposed to know," He hissed, taking his hand back and unwittingly removing some of the comfort he'd proved the mechanic with.

The traces of a grin flickered across Ellis' face for a brief moment.

"Well, you sure as shit seem ta know everythin' else."

Smoke slid through Nick's teeth as a 'pfft' sound slithered out between them as well. "Even bullshitery can't live forever during the apocalypse."

He'd meant it as a joke without thinking, but then something in Ellis' eyes hardened again and he wanted to kick them both in the ass for it. The latter nervously twirled his unlit cigarette between his fingers, having long ago convinced himself that even the smallest form of movement was much better than sitting idle and staring out into the world he was now terrified of.

_Shit._

Nick clenched his jaw and absently ground his teeth in his own annoyance. He'd spent the better portion of the last hour or so trying to wheedle Ellis out of the corner he'd trapped himself into only to fling him back into it like that Charger his ribcage had had the pleasure of befriending earlier that day.

Ellis still had the bruises to prove it.

At first it had been a joke, really, saying that all of those 'special' Infected had some sort of infatuation with Ellis. In truth they might as well have, seeing as the first day they were grouped together a Smoker had gotten a little too friendly with him on the way to the mall and a Hunter had gotten up close and personal before Coach had even had time to finish his sneeze.

Never mind the Tank swinging at him and the Jockey chasing him like the little humping freak that it was.

The joke had immediately run dry when Rochelle shot a Boomer standing right next to Nick, who then got to experience a bath of puke and a horde first-hand. Ellis's whoops and covering him was just an added bonus.

Watching the other two go save Ellis repeatedly had gotten on Nick's nerves admittedly, seeing as they only had so much time to get to the mall before nightfall and the boy's near-death experiences were just about as funny as a Spitter's 'sag-bags,' as they'd been so _affectionately_ deemed. (Which really wasn't that funny, something Nick had found out when he was knocked to the ground and staring right up at..._them._ He still shivered at the thought.)

It wasn't until the second night of running through hell and being cooped up in the latest Safe Room that the other three came to a rather unnerving conclusion while Ellis lay knocked out from the pain pills they'd forced down his throat after the Witch he'd unknowingly disturbed had had her way with him, despite his repeated—and pained—_I'm fine guys, don' worry 'bout it._

Rochelle had performed a quick examination of the unconscious man, tracing the bandages under which lay the lacerations and bruises he'd endured over the course of the past few days and drew her fingers away from his clothing, sticky with blood.

She'd frowned and turned back to the two men slumped against their own respective walls after their half-assed attempts at conversation had flopped lifelessly to the floor like the used bandage Coach was peeling off of his wounded arm.

"Nick," She'd whispered, not at all in the way said man had once found comforting in the late nights of Vegas. "That Smoker was going for you, wasn't it?"

He'd been too tired to truly frown at the time, but the corner of his lip had twitched in response. "If that's how you want to look at it. Sure. Whatever."

She'd cast a scathing look in his direction before turning back to Ellis for a brief moment, having made a soft whimper as he'd tried to shift in his drug-induced sleep.

Something had trickled down the back of Nick's spine in that unsettling manner.

"Aw, shit."

"He shoved you outta tha way," Coach murmured, running a hand over his face in exhaustion.

Not much else had been said that night other than bits and pieces of small talk, but it had been unanimously agreed upon that _at least_ one of them would have Ellis' back at all times, whether he was aware of it or not.

His damned over-protectiveness was not going to be the cause of his death. That much could be agreed upon.

Maybe in a way, Nick had taken in upon himself to become Ellis' personal bodyguard, having already lost count of the times the hick had saved his life on more than one occasion. As it stood now, most of the injuries Ellis had endured had only occurred _because_ he was too busy trying to protect the others over himself.

In some ways, Nick was both appreciative and jealous of that fact.

Ellis was the exact opposite of him in every way, and there was something about that that he liked. Because if Ellis was Ellis then that meant that the world hadn't completely gone to hell and he wasn't screwed over just yet.

But right now Ellis wasn't being Ellis and that _scared_ him.

This man that had become the brother he hadn't expected to find during the apocalypse had sidled right up to him and proceeded to yammer on about some inane tale of one his buddy's and Nick hadn't been sure if he'd wanted to listen or deck the kid in order to shut him up.

Instead, Nick had learned to endure just as much as Ellis had, and reality was finally catching up with the latter.

Maybe they mourned the passing of Ellis' innocence.

"…ya think?"

To be quite honest, Nick's sudden silence for the past ten minutes or so had seriously freaked Ellis out, the younger having expected to be told to go to sleep or poke and prod at their debate over the humanity of zombies or their fear of death and the dark.

That didn't mean he was up for being outright ignored, however.

From where he sat, he figured the best way to fully get Nick's attention back to the somewhat land of the living was to insult him and see where that took them.

"You smell like ass."

For what it was worth, it was a true statement. Nick's once white suit was soiled with blood, dirt, sweat, and a whole plethora of things no one wanted to think about and smelled just as bad, if not worse. Ellis might as well have slapped Nick in the face in order to get his attention.

"You look like it."

Ellis wanted to laugh at the response because it was probably true and it meant that he hadn't totally lost Nick to his thoughts.

"Thought you was brain dead for a bit there," He chuckled forcefully, working to get back to optimistic and humorous demeanor he'd started their adventure with.

Nick only shrugged, and Ellis' humor deflated.

"It's called thinking, Overalls. Give it a try sometime."

The insult was made in jest, but it was also in-character for Nick, who was busy shoving his cigarette back into his mouth because it meant he didn't have to talk. Ellis shook his head slowly, his own smoke fluttering through his fingers again.

"I don' _think?_" His brow puckered and Nick felt a slight pang of guilt that died the moment Ellis continued speaking. "'Cuse me, but who was it that came up with the idea of usin' the Jimmy Gibbs Jr.? Tha's right, this guy. Yeah, yer welcome."

Nick wasn't sure if he wanted to punch him or snicker at him. It didn't help any that the jest had been forced.

"All right, so you got us a shitty car, I'll give you that."

The look of utter horror on Ellis' face was almost worth it.

"Shi—you think—how can you—_shitty?_ The Jimmy Gibbs saves our _lives_ and you call it _shitty?_"

Nick tapped his cigarette and let ash flit on down to the floor. Ellis let out an exaggerated huff and folded his arms across his knees again, letting his own cigarette dangle between his fingertips.

They sat in silence for a bit, though they found this one not quite as uncomfortable as the last. At least this time around Ellis wasn't confessing his fears and they weren't launching into some sort of shouting match. Ellis had managed to crawl out of his corner if only by a few feet and Nick was doing the best he could to not shove him back into it.

He had never truly been the talkative type, and having to extract conversation out of a sleep-deprived and emotionally traumatized young man was quite draining. That didn't mean he was just about to ready to let the boy clam up again and bring them all the way back to the square one that they'd been revisiting because Nick had apparently found it much easier to speak before he thought at almost four in the morning.

"You really should get some sleep, Ellis." He sighed, cupping the hand that wasn't holding his cigarette around his upraised knee. He shifted his other leg to keep it from going numb.

This may not have been what the mechanic wanted to here at the moment, and the statement brought them dangerously close to their starting point.

"Yer free ta go back to bed if ya wanna, Nick." The weary man replied. "No one's keepin' ya up. I'll take watch."

Nick wanted to jab some sense back into the kid with the lit end of his cigarette.

"You can't get rid of me that easy, _Aylus_."

Ellis made some move to say something else or something similar, but instead gave a half-hearted shrug and diverted his attention elsewhere—namely on the shotgun he'd bashed into the forehead of their most recent visitor. When his gaze lingered there for a bit longer than was presumably necessary, the discomforting vision of Ellis raising it and pointing it on himself flashed through Nick's mind and it was decided that more conversation was going to be necessary, as much as he wasn't looking forward to it.

It was two minutes after he said it that Nick regretted it.

Ellis was staring at him incredulously, as if awaiting some further explanation in regards to his words.

"_What?_"

In truth, even Nick wasn't sure why he'd even said it in the first place. There was no taking back his words now—even if Ellis hadn't have heard him the first time, he presumably would have repeated the exact same statement.

The Southerner's brow puckered for a moment as he studied the con-man apprehensively.

"You're serious."

"Hmm," The older man hummed around chapped lips and a cigarette. "Wouldn't've said it if I wasn't."

Ellis stared at him as if trying to figure him out and Nick was again reminded that he _really_ didn't like people looking at him for so long. Be admired was one thing, but being gawked at was another. He wasn't overly fond of either.

"Uhh," The kid drawled, either stalling for time or genuinely confused when it came to Nick's offer to _willingly_ listen to one of his stories. "Which one ya wanna hear?"

Nick glared at his roll of tobacco and paper for a moment. "Whichever one isn't some stupid bullshit that makes me want to pound your face in." Ellis paled a bit at the threat, but then quickly covered it up with a glower of his own. "Choose wisely."

"And yer actually gonna listen to it?" He spoke slowly, as if trying to reassure himself that Nick wasn't just trying to screw with him. "Yer not gonna interrupt and tell me to shut it?"

The con-man took another drag and then loosely let his head roll onto his shoulder so that he could give the kid the bored expression he'd been trying to muster over the one that he couldn't name.

"Don't push your luck."

Ellis frowned and crawled a few more inches out of the corner that involved reality's mental beat-down on him.

"Just tell me one of those damned stories about your buddy Kevin or Kyle or whatever the sonuvabitch's name is before I lose it."

"Keith," Ellis had cut in somewhere around the last bit of 'Kevin,' but whether or not this fell upon deaf ears, he didn't know. As much as it did bother him when it came to Nick's sudden interest in his friends and stories, he wasn't about to let that deter him from actually finishing one for once.

Besides, gentle noise was much better than the silence and inky darkness that he'd been living through for the entire night before Nick had slouched around the corner and demanded to know what he was still doing up.

He'd question the older man later.

It was with a bit of calmness and lingering discomfort that Nick let himself relax and Ellis wove a tale about one of his absurd adventures with his former best friend before everything went to hell.

"Did Ah ever tell you that time when me and Keith tried being homeless before? We had a shopping cart 'n a cardboard box 'n we were sleeping in front of the garage we worked at. It was fun until Paul decided to call the police…"

The steady hum of Ellis' drawl and the flickering ashes of their cigarettes became a listless lullaby.


	4. the tragedy seems to be over now

_ever carried the weight of another? for how long? or walk as far as they need to recover? for how long?_

**A/N:** Alright, so this would (_finally_) be the end of this elongated one-shot here, folks. I want to say 'thank you' to the people that stuck through this with me, and I'm sorry it took me so long to get this all out. As this was initially meant to be a one-shot, I did in fact at one point consider posting it as such, but since it's really long, I broke it up into four parts. Now I'm finally done, and this is the longest part (and a bit more light-hearted). I really wanted to cut it down, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. xD

I'm not done screwing over Ellis just yet, though. Because I took a break from finishing this (no, I didn't forget about it!) I started writing another story to mess with his head as well and so far it's all good.  
>No, I'm a good person, I swear. I'll make it up to you guys and post that bit o' ZoeyEllis story I've been talking about. ...eventually. D:

That said, enjoy the conclusion of exploring the darker side of L4D2 with Nick piecing back together Ellis' broken mind and them being bros.  
>thanks guys. c:<p>

**Part [4/4]**

* * *

><p><em>I close my eyes for a while<em>_  
><em>And force from the world a patient smile<em>_

_How can you say that your truth is better than ours?_  
><em>Shoulder to shoulder, now brother, we carry no arms<em>  
><em>The blind man sleeps in the doorway, his home<em>  
><em>If only I had an enemy bigger than my apathy I could have won<em>

* * *

><p><span>the tragedy seems to be over now.<span>

Never before had Nick found Ellis' endless drawl soothing, but in that moment it was one of the only things he wanted to hear.

As Ellis regaled him with a tale of the cardboard box that Keith had managed to get himself trapped in and how he'd struggled to talk his way out of an arrest without cracking up too much in his own broken way, Nick lost himself in the words of a past life and cautiously dove into his own memories of being a trouble-making delinquent with a certain way with words that had practically coasted him through high school. His once suave manner had paid off as well—he was a gambler, not a cheater and had to talk his way out of what would have been a drunken one-night stand (she was plastered, he was buzzed) because he'd once upon a time been a nice guy that didn't want to hurt his girlfriend.

She'd been nice enough to begin with, but then the advice he'd once given Ellis about women after meeting that girl on the bridge was ringing in his ears. To be honest, Nick was surprised she hadn't killed him a month into their relationship.

As Ellis carried on with Keith complaining about their lack of beer when it came to their attempt at being homeless, Nick frowned idly to himself when it came to thoughts of his ex-wife.

Figured they'd manage to break up and then somehow cross paths again years later. He wouldn't have been surprised to learn that she'd been stalking him. But then it was the first two months of their former relationship all over again and for some God forsaken reason he found himself proposing without any good reason to. They'd been happy enough to begin with, but the damned honeymoon phase latest all of an hour before he was kicking himself in the ass.

God, was she a _bitch!_

"…then a cop pulls up 'n I figure they're jus' makin' rounds, righ'?" Nick was snapped out of his tormented memories of broken vows and screaming at Ellis' limp, throaty chuckle. "But then he pulls on over and we got one them 'oh shit' moments, y'know?"

It was clear that there something still off about Ellis—and it would presumably never be fully healed—but even more so that something about being able to talk and have someone other than himself hear his voice was helping him to cope with his tormented reality.

"'n then he starts gittin' outta the car 'n Keith tells me ta play it all cool and let 'im do the talkin' 'cause we didn' wanna get arrested 'n shit. Ta be honest I didn' even think 'bout tha fact that we was loiterin' until the cop was there 'n the last thing Ah wann'd was ta go ta jail 'cause I was stupid enough ta go 'long with it."

Ellis shook his head and Nick rolled his eyes, bringing his cigarette back to his mouth.

"Then Ah'm busy tryin' not ta freak out 'bout goin' ta jail 'n Keith was busting outta tha box he was stuck in when we see Paul standin' at the window of tha garage. Oh man, you shoula _seen_ the look on his face when he recognized us! Oh man, I thought he was gonna shit bricks!" A dry laugh forced its way out of Ellis' mouth, and he closed his eyes at the thought.

"So Paul comes racin' out the door like his ass's on fire while the cop's comin' up ta us lookin' like he's 'bout ready to knock some shit inta sumbody when Keith opens his mouth 'n I jus' _knew_ we was screwed. 'Afternoon, officer,' Keith says like they're sum ol' buddies. 'What kin Ah do ya for?' 'N even though I knew he was jus' tryin' to make things better it wasn't helpin' none, but then tha cop's rollin' his eyes 'cause he _recognizes_ Keith! 'Ain't you that boy that was runnin' on the coaster tracks last week?' 'The very same!' Keith says with sum shit-eatin' grin like it's the best thing he's ever done in his entire life."

Nick quirked a 'brow as a sudden cough wracked Ellis' chest, and the boy thumped his fist heavily against it to clear it of phlegm. As much it may have bothered the con-man to admit it, there was something about finally hearing one of these stories in its entirety that was almost comforting. Strange really, how only earlier today he'd told the young mechanic to can it because no one cared to listen to some exaggerated tale of his best friend.

It was with a sudden inkling of dread that Nick realized these stories might have very well been all Ellis had left of Keith.

Maybe he didn't have anything but his memories.

Nick's heart didn't go out to the kid, but he respected him just a bit more.

"Man, I thought Paul was gonna _kill_ us! Took us awhile to convince the cop that it was jus' sum stupid dare, 'n then _he's_ laughin' so hard he looks like his stomach's 'bout to burst! Holy shit, I was laughin' so hard I could even _see righ'_ 'cause I was so relieved we weren't gonna get arrested!" Ellis' story was interrupted when he started chuckling again, and even Nick had to snicker.

"We was left off with a warnin' 'n all, and Ah _swear_ Paul ain't ever punched me so hard! I had a big ass bruise on my shoulder for a _week!_"

The laughter slowly died down into gasping sighs, and Ellis' attention was quietly drawn back to the moonlit bars protecting them from the outdoors. Nick smirked to himself and blew out a steady stream of smoke, leveling his gaze with the wall across from him again. They sat in silence for a few moments, and it took a couple of heartbeats for Nick to follow Ellis' gaze and realize that the younger man was slipping away again.

"That's a bit disappointing, you know."

Ellis tore his scowl away from the doorway to stare at his initially unwelcome company incredulously, not understanding what he meant in the slightest. A light smirk tugged at the corner of the con-man's mouth.

"I mean, the one time you come even _remotely_ close to being a badass, and you only get let off with a warning? That's it?" He shook his head slowly, absently ridding his cigarette of some ash and letting it collect on the floor beside him. Ellis was about to glower at him for badmouthing his tale, but then he was too busy smirking himself, adding in the roll of his eyes for good measure.

''I _am _a badass, ya jackass."

"You are a jackass, I'll give you that." Nick sniggered, sticking the roll of tobacco back between his teeth, leaving Ellis to sputter with his words mutilated and thrown back at him.

The con-man was choking on his own spit at the next thing Ellis said.

"I've been almost arrested _twice_." He gave Nick a smug look that somehow carried a mixture of pride and embarrassment, earning a curious look with the subtle gesture of a hand that more or less demanded an explanation. Sighing, he twirled his unlit cigarette between his fingers and tore his blushing gaze away to his hand and said object.

"Well, it was this stupid dare, y'see. I was about eighteen at the time and I'd just graduated 'n all, so to celebrate I got dared by my buddies ta run through the park at the midnight. Now see, Ah didn' think much off it 'cause it was jus' runnin' through the park, so I…I…"

The Southerner trailed off with a gentle snigger, his face turn beet red and Nick's curiosity piqued, wanting to know what it was about this so-called 'stupid dare' that had Ellis so worked up.

"Turns out, they dared me ta run through tha park _naked_."

Much to his chagrin Nick burst into laughter, reminding himself to keep it down least he wake the other two after a few seconds of mirth. The sheer embarrassment in the kid's voice and face was just icing on the cake as he recalled his brush with a public indecency charge.

"Luckily it was too dark so they couldn't see my face 'n shit, and the hell if they're gonna take uh mug shot o' _that_ 'n I didn' plan on flashin' the local police anytime soon, so Ah guess you could say I was lucky 'n got off the hook there."

"Holy shit, kid." Nick said through his chuckles. "I was expecting you to say something about J-walking or some stupid shit like that. I'm proud of you."

Ellis' confident look was back, and he sat up a bit straighter. He grinned and admittedly felt better about himself, if only a little.

"Nope. Go big or go home."

"You're a moron, Overalls." The older man shot back with another roll of his eyes, reaching up to shove the bill of Ellis' untouchable cap over his eyes. It was miracle it had survived this long without being lost and another one that its owner hadn't punched him for touching it.

"Aw, shut up, Nick."

They sat and elbowed one another for a bit, jostling each other and trying to fully break Ellis out of the shell encasing him that was just beginning to crack. With an unperturbed huff, the young ceased fire first, turning away with the shake of his capped head and a misty-eyed look. The duo sat in relative silence for an undisclosed period of time, only knowing that it was way past bedtime and that Ellis should have been asleep hours ago rather than spending who knew how many sleepless nights trapped in the misguided haze of his nightmares.

It wasn't until Nick was shifting that Ellis was suddenly afraid of being left alone again, too caught up in believing that the man next to him was about to ditch him and tell him to suck it up to notice that Nick was only moving to yank his mutilated jacket off of his shoulders. Ellis' breath audibly hitched and then continued in his throat as he became aware of this fact, but Nick made no comment about it otherwise.

It was in that same instant that Ellis realized that he knew absolutely nothing about the man he'd been spilling his guts and fears to.

It didn't bother him, exactly, but it didn't fully sit well either.

"What about you?"

He hadn't known how to really approach the topic of the con-man's blatantly unspoken past, and it took a lot of gumption to even _think_ about venturing into that uncharted territory. He was half expecting Nick to level him with a steely glare and tell mind his own God damn business, Overalls.

What he didn't expect was for Nick to go along with it.

"What about me?" The gambler was genuinely curious, in all honesty. While he had a faint idea of what Ellis was about to get at, he still wanted to see how he'd perform dancing around the eggshells he was too afraid to step on. The boy sighed, clearly working up the nerve to reword his initially vague question.

"Everythin', I guess."

Something stilled in Nick at the one-shouldered shrug from Ellis, but his well-groomed poker face was displayed without hesitation as he regarded the sudden, flustered backtracking.

"Ah—Ah mean, well, it's just that I've been tellin' yew all 'bout me 'n my shit, and Ah don' know nothin' 'bout you." Ellis' exhaustion was much more obvious than his fear, if judging from the way he drawled his words more than usual was any hint. "Hell, none of us do. First thing y'said when ya tol' us yer name was tha' yew didn' plan on stickin' 'round long. Didn' think we was that bad, but then ya stayed with us so I figured things couldn't be that bad then, huh?"

His thinly veiled questions had still gone unasked, too nervous and fearful of rejection to really bring them up.

But Nick didn't like half-assing things and it would make the entire process of drudging up his past much less difficult if Ellis would just spit it out already.

"What do you want to know, Ellis?"

The Southerner watched him carefully, taking a breath and swallowing while piecing together the first most painless question he could think of.

"What's…yer real name?" He mentally slapped himself, but asked it all the same.

"Nicolas." Nick snorted and left it at that. Whatever victory Ellis may have had at that point was sent stumbling backwards onto its ass. He paused and glanced away, trying to think of something else to ask the grumpy older man.

"Well…what's yer favorite color?"

As much as Nick wanted to laugh and punch him, he chose to play along and did both.

"Green." He said to humor the younger man, only to be reminded of a rather rancid excrement of a similar hue that he'd practically been bathed in earlier that day. This response seemed to take a weight off of Ellis' shoulders, and he let out the breath he'd been holding. "You?"

"Uh," Ellis blinked, having to think for a second. "Blue. What's yer favorite movie?"

Nick combed his fingers through his slicked back, greasy hair with a smirk. "The Boondock Saints. First one; second one was shit."

The mechanic snickered and nodded in agreement. "I hear ya. I used ta like some of them zombie movies—the original stuff. The good ones, y'know? Used ta watch all kinds of horror movies with my brother when he'd get me outta bed late at night when ever'one else was asleep 'cause ma'd just about flip a shit if she found out he was sneakin' me these movies that she'd thought scar me fer life. Hell, my brother 'n Ah used ta love zombies, but now…I mean, with all this…"

"I don't blame you," Nick muttered, picking up where Ellis had left off. Something hardened in the kid's eyes, and then it was Nick's turn to come up with questions. "You had a brother?"

"Two, actually." A grin broke across Ellis' face as he responded, looking for all the world at Nick like they suddenly shared some inseparably bond. "Had a sister, too. All older 'en me, o'course. Got me the short end of the stick too, if y'know what I mean." He playfully poked at their height difference sarcastically and wordlessly waited to hear all about the siblings Nick did or didn't have.

He made no mention of whether or not his brothers and sister were alive, but Nick didn't push it.

"Lucky you," Nick muttered, absently scratching the edge of his jaw. "I didn't have any siblings except for a couple of asshole cousins. Guess that runs in the family."

He might as well have said that he had an entire army of God damn horses locked away for the way Ellis' eyes widened.

"Shit, that's _cool! _I mean, kinda sucks, yeah, but 'least ya didn't git any crappy hand-me-downs and had all the teachers know yer name five years before ya even _had_ them." The kid shrugged. "I mean, I guess it wasn't all that bad, but it still kinda sucked when none uh my clothes even fit me." He blushed, and Nick would have found it amusing had he not been so tired. "But uh, sorry, you were talkin' 'bout bein' an only child?"

Nick shrugged, brushing the dirt and stains on his ruined jacket covering his knee. "I guess it wasn't too bad. Boring as shit sometimes, but I guess that's how I got to being where I am now."

"Whaddya mean?" Ellis sniffed, wrapping an arm around his bent knees and tightly clutching his unused cigarette between his fingers. The way he cocked his head to the side was just an added bonus.

"The hell if I know," Nick muttered, beginning to withdraw back into himself to adopt the persona that Ellis had grown so used to over the past few weeks. However, as much as he hated to get personal and all of that sap, it would be nice to have someone know who he was if he were to die anytime soon. Surely Ellis wouldn't care if he was just _very_ vague—hell, Nick could lie and pretend and talk about some other person and the kid wouldn't mind just so long as someone else was talking to him other than himself.

Maybe it was just the fact that he was exceedingly tired, but Ellis was really confused. That said, he decided to try a different tactic and tackle the metaphorical beast head-on.

"What were you like…" He paused for a moment, wanting to take back his words but then plowed through the rest of his question. "Before all o' this shit?"

Nick didn't know how to answer that. He really, truly didn't.

But he could try.

"Sarcastic, cynical, an ass." The con-man hummed thoughtfully to himself. "Pretty much the same as I am now, just with less of my own blood on my clothes."

He smirked at Ellis' grimace but chose to divulge no further information. There really wasn't much else that he could think to say to the kid because life after school had just been one big fantastic blur with a few hiccups in it that had been punched in the face by the zombie apocalypse. Besides, perhaps some things were better left unsaid.

"Uh, okay." Part of Nick wanted the hick to drop the conversation and leave it at that; part of him wanted to continue it, just to see how they'd both react. "Um, well, uh, look, this might be personal and you don' hafta answer it 'n all, but, uh…"

"Today, Overalls."

'Overalls' swallowed. "Have you ever been ta prison? I mean, 'cause ya said before that yew weren't legally allowed to own a gun, 'n Ah was jus', I mean—"

He didn't mean to, but Nick let out a bark of laughter. This threw Ellis for a loop, partially afraid that the man next to him was about to wring his neck for asking such a question. The snickering died down as Nick's facial features abruptly adopted a darker look, sending Ellis' fingers itching for his long forgotten shotgun.

"If I told you, I'd have to kill you."

The mechanic visibly paled in the moonlight.

"Don't worry," There was another chuckle. "It wasn't anything as bad as late night streaking."

Ellis let out a heavy sighed and buried his face in his hands. "Holy shit man, you me goin' there! Damn!"

The ensuing remnants of the conversation were composed of bits and fragments, each learning pieces of the other's past—entire short stories, in Ellis' case—and quirks of personalities and habits along with general facts. The first thing Ellis did in the morning was put on his cap, Nick always shuffled and then reshuffled a deck of cards (Nick promised to teach Ellis how to play poker after being asked repeatedly). The first time Ellis had ever eaten steak he'd choked on it, and Nick had burned his. Ellis was two years younger than Keith and Nick was the third oldest out of all of his cousins. Ellis had never been married, Nick had.

Nick flushed and regretted having even said anything.

It was a delicate subject, but Ellis approached it nonetheless, a bundle of caution and nerves and offering a hand he didn't know would be sought after.

"Oh yeah, you've got an ex-wife, dun ya?" Came the tired, drawled words. The gambler only nodded—how else was he supposed to respond? Suddenly Ellis was stumbling over eggshells again and trying to pick up the pieces at the same time. "What, uh…what happened?"

_Nick, what are you doing? Nick, listen to me. Nick, who the hell do you think you are? Nick, don't give me that bullshit. Nick, don't lie to me! You're an asshole, Nicolas!  
><em>

The hand that wasn't holding what remained of his cigarette ran down his face.

"You get a, um, you get one of them dee-vorces?" It might not have been the place for questions, but Ellis sincerely couldn't help it. Nick didn't seem to mind.

_This isn't working. I'm leaving, Nick. I'm sorry, Nick, I really truly am. I love you, I swear. I just…I don't, right now._

Divorced? Yes. But Nick was a liar, and he was pretty damn good one at that.

(_We can still be friends, right?_

Bull. Shit. Bitch.)

"She died."

_Nicky, sweetie, I didn't mean it. Nicky please, I need your help. Oh God, Nick help me, please, Nick I feel like I'm dying. Nick please, baby, please…_

Ellis gulped and with shaking hands reached up to remove his ever present cap to nervously run them through his hair. "Shit, I'm sorry, man."

"Don't be. She was a bitch." Nick sniffed indifferently and was met with an incredulous stare.

"Nick tha's jus' disrespectful. Bitch er not she's still dead and ya can't make fun uh them." He inwardly groaned at the insanity of his own words and waited for the con-man to slap him upside the head because of them. (The latter could have cared less, really. She'd been a bitch, taken all of his money, ditched him, and then had started crawling back toward him the moment the Flu struck. She was just lucky that he hadn't had the chance to pull the trigger before darting off to Savannah because damn that would have just been bittersweet karma there.)

"Whatever," The older man grumbled, single-handedly ending the conversation there and making it clear that any more attempts to continue it down that road would result in heavy consequences—none of which Ellis was eager to learn of.

They'd spent a solid five minutes sitting in silence when something rustled somewhere outside the barred window of the door and Ellis jerked, one hand flying for the shotgun resting idly at his side and the other curling into a fist. Nick reached out at the last second, grabbing a shoulder and giving it a quick yank in order to fling the younger back into their once calm bubble that didn't include any zombies and gave Ellis the chance to get all of this shit off of his chest that had been building up for days. The kid flinched against his grasp, but Nick failed to let that deter him.

There was the sound of more movement (the con-man hoped more so for the sake of the other's mental health that it was just the wind) and Ellis curled into himself, effectively curling into Nick as well.

"Sorry, sorry," He was mumbling as he tried to pull away from the man with the bewildered expression, shaking all over as if he was six again and his older brother had just showed him _The Exorcist _for the first time. "Sorry, sorry, shit, 'm sorry—"

"Ellis!" Nick hissed, cutting in on said man's apologetic chant. "Ellis, calm the hell down."

A few muttered apologies later and the mechanic was staring at the other man with the blankest look he had. Nick let out a sigh, withdrawing his hand from the body that went back to slumping against the wall.

"Shit, you're tired."

"No, no 'm not…" Began the boy's weak protest, but it trailed off before it managed to even reach a head. Even though he wanted so desperately to sleep and do nothing _but_ sleep Ellis was still too damn terrified to, not knowing what he would see.

"Yes, Ellis, yes you are." The con-man shot back, with a glare that wasn't as heated as most of his others. Maybe he was just too tired or too honest. "You really need to sleep."

Said man went to shake his head but found it too heavy to do so.

Nick was trying to think of something else to say but then suddenly Ellis was shaking and shivering with his exhaustion eating at him, leaving them both trapped in a shaft of moonlight trying so desperately hard not to trip and stumble back to their starting point. Damn if the kid wasn't stubborn, though. He failed miserably in attempting to convince the other that the drowsiness was just a phase and that he'd be perfectly fine in just a few minutes.

He was given a hard look that clearly stated it was time to drop the machismo.

"Ellis, I'm not joking." The older man's voice had taken an edge to it—not enough to send the kid reeling, but enough to tell him that there was no room for argument. He flinched once and only once, slowly and steadily giving in to the elder's demands but looking non-too thrilled about it. It wasn't until the former mechanic shivered again that Nick finally noticed the draft sliding its way through the iron bars protecting them to snake around else.

Last week Nick wouldn't have been caught dead (ah, so funny to think now, wasn't it?) even _considering_ the offer he was about to make, but present day Nick had been forced to endure a shit load of, well, _shit_, and he wasn't about to force anyone else into having to deal with the same thing—or even _more_ than usual, in Ellis' case.

Even so, there he was with a sigh accompanied by the pinching of the bridge of his nose and telling himself to just buck up and do it already.

"Look, I'll stay here with you until you fall asleep. And I'll stay here while you sleep too, if it makes you feel any better." He groaned audibly. "...I promise."

Having initially been watching him with lidded eyes plagued by the bags beneath them, Ellis' eyes widened both at Nick words and as he watched him slowly reach for his formerly white jacket draped across his knees, following by a somewhat disgruntled, "Here," as he extended it toward the young man.

The latter shook his head slowly, much too shocked and confused in his poor, tired state to do much else. He was about to give another timid shake of his head when he paused, eying the extended offering as if asking the con-man what he wanted him to do next. The green-eyed pessimist rewarded him with a careful glare.

"You're not going to make me do it for you, are you?"

Ellis glowered, snatching the bunched fabric and holding it loosely before him, staring down at it as if it were some diseased beast he'd been charged with executing. He hadn't planned on doing much else with it, but finding himself under the watchful eye of the man next to him he bit back an embarrassed whimper, slinging the sports jacket around his weighted shoulders. The jacket was much too big for him, but not enough that he was uncomfortable in it. With an uneasy fidget he adjusted it around his torso, wrapping himself in it with something akin to silent gratitude.

"Uh, thanks, I guess."

Shrugging one shoulder as if attempting to brush off the exchange as nothing much, Nick proceeded to roll down his sleeves. As he did so the Southerner took note of all of the bruises and scraps dotted with dried blood, but failed to comment on it. His arms looked roughly the same, only one was lined with the tattoo that the man with the slicked back hair didn't have.

Which reminded him...

"'Ey, Nick, does this mean we're bros now?"

("I'm going to get a tattoo that says 'NO,' Ellis.")

Said man froze at his words, choosing instead to engage in a staring contest with a button on his cuff rather than answer the boy immediately. His cigarette burned listlessly between two of his fingers.

"Go to sleep, Ellis."

As per usual, the hick was undeterred, shrugging to himself and turning away from Nick. The finer traces of his trademark grin—the ghost of Rochelle and the other two men had been seeing for the past few days—tugged idly at the corners of his mouth as he did the same with the article of clothing that was just about familiar as it was alien. A hand slid out of the discolored cocoon to rub the heel of its palm against a closed blue eye and then retracted as Ellis leaned against the wall behind him once more, albeit gingerly in his newest possession.

"I'mma take that as a 'yes.'"

Nick snorted with the roll of his eyes.

"Whatever."

Ellis released a yawn in that moment, his gaze slipping to the shotgun laying forgotten beside him and then to the barred window giving him a partial view of the inky sky beyond it. Rather than grimace this time around, he gave a small smile, turning his attention away from it and shifting around again.

"G'night, Nick."

He said nothing, and unsurprisingly it was within minutes of ducking his chin into his chest that the mechanic was asleep—a bit fitfully at first, but soon dead to the world (not quite to such a dark extent) at the light brush of blue cotton against his now clothed arm and Nick moved around himself, trying to maintain some feeling in his ass if he were to stay here for the remainder of the night. It was with an apathetic grimace that he watched the remnants of cigarette burn down to the filter before he flung it into the space where the wall met the floor.

"Night, El,"

It served as a shock more to Nick than to the unconscious form next to him that he didn't flinched or throw a fit when Ellis' sleeping head lolled to the side to rest upon his shoulder.

"Bro,"

Ellis smiled in his sleep.

* * *

><p>Nick didn't even look mildly ashamed when Rochelle came whirling around the corner in her flustered state during her erratic search for the young Savannah native, having recently awoken only to find her couch-mate inexplicably absent, he simply nodded and left their exchange at that.<p>

Ellis slept peacefully for the first time in a week, later awaking to the sleeping form of his older brother wearing a light grin.


	5. epilogue: brothers in arms

**A/N:** While I was finishing up the last 'chapter' of '_an enemy bigger than my apathy,' _I thought about the exchange that would go on the next morning, and in doing so ended up writing much more than what you got there. Originally this was posted on its own, but then I was cleaning up my stories on here and thought that I might well just stick it onto the tail-end of the story and be totally done with it. That said, I hope you enjoyed _'apathy'_ and now we can all go on our merry ways and cr0wn some Witches.

All the same, my apologies for having this story crop up again! Like I said, I was re-organizing some things, but at least now it's fully over. Enjoy the 'epilogue' and bonus points to whomever can tell me what five song lyrics were used throughout this story, haha. (I've also just recalled that '_Separation Anxiety' _is actually meant to be set a few days after this, ahaha.)  
>-and now back to <em>Iron Man<em> and_ Avengers._

* * *

><p><em>I wanna let my brother know he saved my life<br>a thousand times throughout the years  
>he's been the friend who's always there...<em>

* * *

><p><span>'epilogue:' brothers in arms.<span>

Nick didn't even look mildly ashamed when Rochelle came whirling around the corner in her flustered state during her erratic search for the young Savannah native, having recently awoken only to find her couch-mate inexplicably absent, he simply nodded and left their exchange at that. It was a wonder Coach hadn't woken with all of her tromping around, but there was something the con-man appreciated about that: less people to explain his current situation to.

As it now stood, Ellis was slumped against Nick, leaning his head on the latter's shoulder and sleeping peacefully for the first time in nearly a week. His nose twitched as he began to turn his face into the taller man's shoulder who, indifferent to the movement, reached up a hand to scratch at the stubble prickling along the jawline opposite his comrade. Nonplussed, Rochelle watched the interaction—or lack thereof—, biting back unvoiced inquiries and folding her arms across her stomach to lean against the graffiti.

"He hasn't slept in days," The older man muttered, finally meeting her eyes head-on. She nodded for a moment, reluctantly tearing her gaze away to rest it on Ellis' immobile form.

"How'd you finally get him to?" She spoke softly, fearful of disturbing the formerly restless boy whose face was a mask of tranquility, or rather as tranquil as one could be sleeping through the zombie apocalypse with an initially loose hold on reality. At least for his sake Nick had chosen to reorganize his priorities to sit beside the youngest member of the group to let him get a shitload of problems off of his chest. Truth be told, Ellis was afraid of what very well may have happened had Nick not plopped down beside him shaking that pack of smokes.

The con-man was about to shrug, but then clearly thought better of when the movement elicited something close to a perturbed grunt. "Nothing, just let him talk."

Rochelle quirked an eyebrow at him, but other than that didn't question him as to why the younger man was wrapped in his jacket. A little breeze quickly served as her answer, however, as goosebumps rose along her arms. Briefly, she wondered why they hadn't chosen to relocate to somewhere without a draft throughout the night, but the iron lining what ought to have been a window served as a reminder of the only place to properly stand watch.

"We might have to head out a bit later than usual; I'm not about to screw up the only good thing going for the kid." Nick said, interlocking his fingers to crack his knuckles. With a grin, Rochelle followed suit, somehow enjoying the feeling as each of her joints popped during her stretching session, much to the bemusement of the only man on the floor that was awake.

"Huh. I never knew you cared about him so much, Nicolas." She winked, earning a frown and instinctive clenching of a jaw.

"I don't. I just prefer not getting shot in the ass by a sleep deprived hick." It was a ruse and they both knew it. All the same, the reporter was running a hand through her disheveled hair, about to say something else somewhere along the lines of a reprimand, but the two of them were interrupted by slow and hesitant movement from the previously sleeping form slumped beside them.

Ellis blinked through heavy eyelids, clearing his dry throat as his eyes adjusted to take in the scene before him. When his spoke, his voice was thick with sleep. "'Ey, Ro...y'need me ta take watch?"

She smiled softly at him and shook her head, denying his sleepy offer. He nodded and closed his eyes again, about to return to his previous position when the bone from a joint dug into his temple. With a frown, he sat back up to stare it down.

"Wha...Nick!" His eyes widened as he fully awoke, pulling back to stare at the man with an amused smirk as his face flushed and he was stuttering, trying to figure out why the hell he was wearing the elder's jacket. His gaze shot between looking down at himself, the giggling woman against the wall, and the man sitting beside him with one of his hands held out. It was with embarrassed haste that Ellis tore the formerly white jacket off of himself to quickly shove what he could of it into the waiting palm. "Sorry, I don't...What the hell..."

"_Ellis,_" Nick cut in to his flustered tirade, leveling him with his unsettling look that was called upon when demanding silence. "Calm down and shut up."

Utterly confused as he tried to process his current circumstances, the mechanic bobbed his head carefully before closing his mouth and cutting off all other apologies and comments. Running a hand through his slick, dark hair, the lanky man stood, shaking out one of his legs that was currently suffering from a round of pins and needles. Ellis watched both the man and woman mutely as Nick shrugged his thin yet warm jacket back on and Rochelle gave them a small nod before turning to enter the other room to wake the dormant bear that was Coach.

It wasn't until a throat was cleared again somewhere above him that the young mechanic glanced up, halting as his legs unfolded to their full length with his back arching in his own form of stretching.

Nick stood silently above him, one hand held out before him, and the Southerner was about to ask what he was waiting for before he realized that it was an offering. Taking it cautiously, the younger let the standing man help haul him to his feet, giving him a swift pat on the back when he swayed on his uneasy legs. Unsure of what to say, Ellis gave a curt nod as thanks. He hadn't noticed one hand was still balled into the fist it had formed sometime during his sleep.

Unfurling his hand in confusion, the young man stared down into his palm, finding it housing the unused cigarette given to him the night previous.

One of Nick's eyebrows rose. "Are you going to smoke that, or what?"

Ellis shook his head slowly, looking away from the roll in his hand in time to watch the mysterious man shrug at him. He was about to voice a question and a sentiment in regards to their exchange during his state of unrest when the clatter of cans and a feminine voice called out to them.

"Boys, breakfast! Cans of pasta or asparagus, take your pick."

Nick watched the younger man for an instant before hesitantly beginning to turn away, his hunger pangs getting the best of him and no longer comfortable with the silence between them as his compatriot clearly mentally warred with himself. He was just about to round the corner when a gentle, drawled voice recaptured his attention, leaving one foot firmly on the ground and the other poised for action.

"And Nick...thanks, man." He took an unsteady breath to steel his nerves. "You really...you really didn't have to do that. But...I 'ppreciate it, I really do. If you hadn't just, y'know, let me get all that shit off my chest, I don't...I don't know what I would have done. I felt like I was going to burst, but I was afraid to. Actually, I'm kinda surprised it was _you_—not that I gotta problem with you, 'cause I don't, but I didn't think you would...y'know." He sighed, running a hand down his face behind Nick's back. "But thank you. I mean it."

The con-man offered no further response than a nod and light smirk, turning to look over his shoulder at the man that was clearly more at ease with his situation than he had been in days.

"You coming or what, bro?"

The duo chuckled at that, leaving Nick to continue on his trek to the next room in search of the promise of food.

Ellis smiled—a _real_ smile, the first in a while—and glanced down at his palm again before pocketing the cigarette, letting it serve as the reminder of the night his brother saved him from himself.


End file.
